TimeCast Shadows
by erulisse6en6dae
Summary: <html><head></head>Marik and Bakura try to go back in time to ancient Egypt to defeat the Pharaoh; however, things don't go quite as planned.</html>
1. Chapter 1

"This is insane!" Marik complained as he trudged through the desert sand after Bakura. "Remind me again why I am even following you."

Bakura glanced back at him, a scowl on his pale face. White smudges of sunscreen shone on the tip of his nose where he'd done a half-ass job of reapplying five minutes ago. A beige cloth was wrapped over his snow-white hair to protect his neck and ears from the cruel rays of the sun. The teen had also donned a crimson cloak he'd stolen from a vendor in the last town. But Marik could see that these protections were proving useless. Soon, Bakura's fair skin would be the same shade of red as his gaudy cloak.

"You are following me because you hate the Pharaoh every bit as much as I do," Bakura answered in his gruff voice, "and because I am the only one who has a probable chance of defeating him."

Marik scoffed. "I don't see how you to plan to defeat him by getting us lost in the middle of the Egyptian desert. In one more day, we'll be out of rations, and then we'll starve to death out here. If you wanted to commit suicide, Bakura, you should have told me about it before we set off on this ridiculous mission."

"Oh, shut it!" Bakura snapped, pausing in his tracks. "We are not going to die, Marik. I know _exactly_ where we are going."

Marik rolled his eyes. "Of course, you do," he said sarcastically, but Bakura did not answer. He was too busy gauging the direction his Millennium Ring was pointing him. Holding the circular ring parallel with the ground, he watched as one of the five golden pointers lifted in a gravity defying feat to show the way. Marik sighed as Bakura spun in that direction and trudged off through the sand, not waiting to see if Marik followed.

"At least tell me what it is we are looking for," Marik said.

He was tired of the sweltering heat and exasperated at his friend for leading him on what seemed like an aimless journey. It had been three days since Bakura had shown up on his doorstep in Cairo and proposed a "hunt to find the ultimate weapon," and Marik could not believe he'd gone along with it. After Battle City, he'd tried to put all this business about card games, magic items and evil Pharaohs behind him. He'd gone back to Egypt to live with his sister, Ishizu, and even enrolled in a proper school. By Ra, he had thought he was over his issues, but as soon as Bakura handed him his old item, he was right back where he'd started. Revenge-driven and power-hungry, he'd greeted the Millennium Rod like a blessing instead of the curse that it was.

"I told you," Bakura said, "we're searching for the ultimate weapon, and then we are going to take down the Pharaoh once and for all."

"And what _is_ this 'ultimate weapon?'" Marik asked with forced patience.

"You'll see," Bakura said, evasively.

"No, I want you to tell me now," Marik said, stomping his foot in the sand angrily.

"You're acting like a spoiled child again," Bakura said. "Besides, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Marik growled, not at all pleased with Bakura's comment.

Bakura paused and turned to squint at him appraisingly, and Marik knew the other boy could tell that he was at the end of his patience.

"Okay," Bakura said after a minute. "I'll tell you, but there's no turning back then. If you know, you're coming along."

"Coming along where?"

"I can't tell you unless you promise to come."

"That's ridiculous!" Marik exclaimed. "How can I tell if I want to come if I don't know where it is we're going?"

"That's the deal," Bakura said firmly. "So, do you want to know?"

Malik sighed. "Of course, I want to know."

"And you'll come along?"

Marik narrowed his lavender eyes at Bakura and scowled. "You're not giving me a choice, baka," he said, using a Japanese word he'd picked up in Domino to insult Bakura's intelligence.

"Of course, I am. I'm giving you a choice right now."

"You _know_ I can't stand you keeping secrets from me," Marik said. "You set this up to force my hand, didn't you?"

Bakura grinned. "Set what up?" he inquired.

"Don't ask me that," Marik said. "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about. You dragged me out into the middle of nowhere, and now, you're forcing me to make a deal with the devil."

"The devil, you say?" Bakura said with a short laugh.

"Yes, because that is exactly what you are. You've got the angel hair and the red skin. All you need is a pitchfork!"

At this, Bakura burst out laughing. "You forgot the horns and goat legs."

"Who is to say you aren't hiding them beneath that robe and headscarf?" Marik shot back, embarrassed by his own outburst and the fact that he'd indirectly complimented Bakura's hair.

"That's enough," Bakura said, getting serious again. "It doesn't matter whether I set you up or not. The fact of the matter is that you were too stupid to ask these questions before we left in the first place. Now, will you join me or not?"

Marik clenched his fists at the insult. "Okay," he ground out.

"You swear?"

"I swear."

"Then it is agreed. We will find the sandglass together and go back in time to ancient Egypt to take out the Pharaoh before he knows we're coming."

"What? You said nothing about time travel! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to mess with time? We could get stuck in the past or alter events so that we're not born!"

"So you actually believe it's possible," Bakura said. "That's a surprise."

"Of course, time travel itself is possible, but it's impossible to alter the past to get the results you want without messing something else up in the process. You could cause the end of the world as we know it!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. How could the death of one evil pharaoh five thousand years ago cause the end of the world?"

"Have you never heard of the butterfly effect?"

"Are you talking about that bullshit theory that if a butterfly flaps its wings, it can cause a hurricane five hundred miles away?"

Marik glowered. "Fine," he snapped, "if we all die, it's your fault!"

Bakura only chuckled and walked away. "Come along," he called, "the end of the world awaits!"

"That's not funny," Marik mumbled, stumbling after him.


	2. Chapter 2

"Have you gotten that drink ready yet, ma chère?"

Grabbing a jigger, Eva measured out a shot of tequila and poured it onto the rocks, the ice cubes crackling as the warmer liquid flowed over them. Adding cranberry juice, lime juice and soda water, she stirred the contents and garnished the rim with a slice of lime before serving the glass to her twentieth customer that night, a regular.

"Stop trying to speak French, Jared," she scolded. "You have a terrible accent."

The man laughed and took a swig of his drink.

"If you're going to serve him more than seven drinks, you're going to be the one responsible for getting him in a skytaxi." Eva jumped as her manager shouted in her ear to be heard over the booming pulse of the music. For the life of her, she did not know why he insisted on keeping the music up so loud when they worked in such a small bar. He should have been going for a chilled atmosphere instead of a frenzied one.

"Sorry," she yelled back, "I lost count."

"Don't let me be hearing that again," her manager warned.

Eva frowned and looked at Jared, who was slurring an unwanted invitation to one of the lady customers. Unbalanced, he accidently sloshed the remainder of his drink onto her pretty silver dress. Though she could not hear what the lady shouted at him over the tunes of the DJ, Eva knew she would be in a lot of trouble if she let the incident play out. Vaulting the bar, Eva hurried over and shouted an apology as she pulled Jared away. The lady scowled but did not pursue. Instead, she joined the line to the bathroom, no doubt to salvage her dress.

"I didn't make you jealous, did I?" Jared taunted, wrapping an arm over her shoulder as she guided him back to a barstool.

"Not at all," she said.

Jared laughed, oblivious to the rejection. "Why don't you replace my drink and fix one for yourself on me?" he asked.

Eva smiled. "I think you've had enough to drink tonight," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "Why don't I get you to a skytaxi? You're going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning."

Jared shrugged. "As long as you come with me," he said. "I'll make it worth your while."

Eva chose to ignore those last words and grabbed her purse from behind the counter. She waved to her manager and gripped Jared's arm.

"Okay," she said. "Come along."

As Eva exited the bar, the cool night air stung her face and nipped at her bare arms. She was actually somewhat glad to have Jared's warm arm around her waist.

"Where are we going?" Jared asked, as Eva took a right down the brightly lit city street. Advertisements sparkled on the sides of glass skyscrapers, and the head and tail lights of the flying vehicles in the skylanes streaked past overhead.

"We are going to hail a skytaxi," Eva answered, patiently.

"Oh," said Jared, "we don't have to do that. My apartment isn't that far. I usually take the subway." Jared pointed across the street towards the entrance to the underground. Several shady types were leaning up against the railing, sharing a joint and hassling passerby's.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Eva said, but Jared had somehow gotten a good grip on her arm and was leading her across the street towards them. "Jared," she warned. "This place doesn't look too safe."

"Don't worry," he said lightly, "those are friends of mine." Eva paled as he pointed to the shady types she'd noticed. What had she gotten herself into?

"Good," she said. "I can leave you in their care, then." Eva made to pull loose, but Jared looked at her with a confused expression, and his grip tightened as he stumbled and used her for support.

"I thought you were going to join us," he said innocently.

"I can't," Eva said. "I haven't completed my shift."

"Well, surely you can take a short break."

"Hey, Jared!" one of the shady types called as they approached. "Who's your girlfriend?"

"Really," Eva said quietly to Jared, "I have to be getting back. My manager is expecting me."

"Okay," he said, nodding, "but let me introduce you to my friends first. They really are cool people."

Eva sighed as Jared greeted his "cool" friends and told her their names. "This is Eva," he said. "She works at the Lunar Bar across the street."

"Coolio!" one of the punks exclaimed with a bit more excitement than was normal, "are you like a stripper?"

Eva coughed. "Uh, no," she said, "I'm a bartender."

"She's makes a wicked Wild Thing Cocktail," Jared bragged, smiling at her sideways.

"That's cool too, man. But she still looks like a stripper." The punk eyed her head to toe, taking into special notice the low cut of her silver blouse and the tightness of her distressed jeans. Eva tensed as he fingered a strand of her dark hair and gazed into her bright green eyes. "Very pretty," he said.

"Well," Eva said, backing away hastily, "it was so great to meet you guys but I've got to get back to work."

"Okay, babe," Jared said, "I'll invite them into the bar sometime. We can all hang out after your shift."

Eva smiled nervously and turned to go. She crossed the street warily, but did not look back. She did not want her glance to be interpreted as an invitation.

"Great!" she murmured to herself. "Now, I'm going to have to sneak home the back way, and maybe get a new job and a blaster pistol."


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm telling you, Yugi, that evil spirit of the Ring is back," Joey said as the gang made their way to Domino High School. "First someone steals two of your items, and then Bakura just disappears from school. He's got to be planning something."

"But the Pharaoh defeated him with Slifer in our duel during the Battle City Finals," Yugi argued. "His soul was all but disintegrated by Slifer's blast."

"What I don't understand is why Bakura didn't try to steal _all_ of your items, Yugi," Anzu said.

"You're right," Honda agreed. "It just doesn't make sense."

"So then, maybe it _wasn't_ Bakura," said Yugi.

"Nah, it's gotta be," said Joey. "Why else would he stop coming to school?"

"That _is_ strange," Anzu agreed. "He is such a serious student. He wouldn't just skip school for no reason. Maybe you should visit him, Yugi, and make sure he's okay."

"Yeah," said Yugi. "We should at least check on him. In fact, we could go right now before school. Isn't that Bakura's apartment just across the way?"

The gang paused in stride and glanced across the street.

"Yeah," said Joey, "I think it is. What number was it again? 666?"

"Oh, stop fooling around, Joey," Anzu scolded. "We all know it was 667."

"If I were Ryou, I wouldn't want to meet the guy that lives next door," Joey said aside.

"Right," said Yugi. "Come on." However, Honda grabbed his arm to stop him before he could cross the street.

"I don't think this is a good idea, man," Honda said. "Do you remember what happened to us the last time we visited Bakura?"

"We was all turned into game figures and nearly killed!" Joey exclaimed.

"Of course, I remember," answered Yugi, a bit perturbed that his friends were keeping him from making sure Ryou was safe. "But he's my friend too, guys. Ryou was a victim just like the rest of us, if not more so. He's risked his life to help us several times, and we owe it to him to make sure he's okay."

"You're right, Yugi," said Anzu, pulling at Honda's shoulder to release him.

"Of course he is," Honda said, bowing his head in apology.

"Oh, man," Joey said, his voice shaky in panic. "Why does he always have to be right? I'm telling ya, you're not going to find anything good up there."

"It'll be alright, guys," said Yugi. "Ryou's probably just down with a bad bout of flu."

The gang glanced about nervously as they crossed the street and climbed the stairs to the apartment their friend shared with his mostly absent father. They were surprised to find the door partially ajar, though the inside chain was hooked in place.

"Should we knock?" Anzu asked.

"No, we should leave," Joey said.

"Oh, stop being a chicken!" Anzu scolded.

"We'll just call for him through the door," Yugi said.

"What if he doesn't answer?" Joey asked, nervously.

"Then, he's not home," Anzu said, condescendingly.

"Or he could be sleeping," Yugi said. "We'll just go in, if he doesn't answer."

"Isn't that breaking and entering?" Honda answered.

"The door's already open," Anzu pointed out. "It would just be entering."

"Bakura?" Yugi called. "Are you in there? It's Yugi."

There was no answer even after they had called for the next two minutes.

"Okay," said Yugi, "I'm going in." Reaching his tiny hand through the gap in the door, he unhooked the chain and pushed the door open. Then, he switched on the light.

Beside him, Anzu screamed and Joey cried out in horror.

"Oh, man," Honda exclaimed.

"Oh, no," Yugi whispered. He stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock. Before him, the living room was a mess. A shelf lay toppled over a couch, its contents now a blood-splattered mountain of books, a barstool from the kitchenette lay broken in front of a shattered television screen, and an assortment of kitchen knives stood embedded in the couches and the walls.

"Wh-what happened here?" Anzu gasped.

"Someone was murdered!" Joey exclaimed. "Bakura killed someone!"

"We should go!" Honda said. "We should call the police! Come on, Yugi."

"Ryou?" Yugi yelled suddenly, breaking out of his daze. He dashed into the apartment to his friends' dismay. "Ryou!"

At the end of the left hall, the bathroom light was lit and the door was broken off its hinges. Yugi ran to the open doorway, and then paused, falling to his knees and weeping.

"Oh, god," Joey said, when he reached Yugi's side. His face turned a ghastly shade of green, and he promptly puked in the corner. Honda ran up behind him and held his hair while he was sick, all the while trying to avoid looking upon the gory scene.

"What is it?" Anzu asked. "Did you find someone?"

"Don't come over here," Honda warned. "You don't want to see this."

Despite her friend's warning, Anzu slowly stepped towards the end of the hall and peered into the bathroom. She gasped at what she saw. The mirror was completely shattered over the counter sink, and crimson streaks weaved their way among the shards of glass towards the drain. This, however, was not what captivated her friends.

Anzu's gaze travelled down and a wave of dizziness assailed her. On the floor, Ryou lay in a puddle of blood. His wrists had been slashed as well as his throat. His brown eyes stared into nothingness, and his angelic white hair was stained crimson and splayed across the tiles.

"Oh, my God," Anzu whispered. Falling to her knees, she wrapped her arms around Yugi and began to cry too.

"Ryou didn't murder anyone," she said. "He only killed himself."


	4. Chapter 4

"What are you doing?" Marik asked when Bakura suddenly stopped in his tracks and pulled a book from his cloak. "What is that?"

"You really do ask too many questions," Bakura mused, flipping through the pages of the book and tapping one with his finger. Marik looked on over Bakura's shoulder as the teen read through a page of material several times.

"Why is it written in a random combination of English and Arabic?" Marik asked.

"Because you can read in English and Arabic," Bakura answered distractedly.

"That answer makes no sense at all," Marik said. "What is this book? This looks like some kind of spell you're reading."

Bakura grinned. "Exactly," he said. "Aren't you a genius?"

Marik frowned at his sarcastic tone and had a sharp response ready on the tip of his tongue when Bakura snapped the book closed and glanced over at him. The excited expression on his friend's face gave him pause. Bakura hadn't looked this invigorated since he'd been on the verge of winning a duel against the Pharaoh.

"We're here," he said.

"Where?" Marik asked, not comprehending. He glanced around at the empty desert and the sand dunes progressing for miles in each direction, and then looked back at Bakura and his cheerful expression. "You mean the sandglass is here," he asked, "under the sand?"

"Precisely," Bakura practically chirped.

"But we didn't bring any shovels," Marik pointed out. "How are we going to retrieve it? This sand is hot, and I am not going to burn my hands digging through it."

"Ah, well," Bakura said, "aren't you a princess? That's why I brought this handy little book."

Marik glared.

"How is a book full of gibberish supposed to help us?" he snapped.

"The Book of Ancients isn't just any book," Bakura answered. "It contains all of the great spells of the world."

"Well," said Marik, "then how come I've never heard of it?"

"Actually, you have," said Bakura. "Here, take a look."

Marik watched closely as Bakura flipped through the pages again and stopped on one with a picture of the seven Millennium Items. "This is..." Marik began slowly.

"Yes," Bakura said, "this is the spell that was used to create the items."

"Wow," said Marik. "What else is in here?"

"Uh, uh, uh," Bakura reprimanded, snatching the book away from Marik's curious fingers and grinning mischievously. "That is also what I wanted to know," he said. "So I obtained the book with my father on one of his excavations. There are all kinds of handy spells here. Some of them require more power and expertise than even I possess. But the spell that I am about to use is quite simple actually. Let me demonstrate."

Bakura cleared his throat and turned to face the open desert, lifting both of his arms in the air. Marik watched with amusement as Bakura called upon the energy stored within his Millennium Item and began flailing his arms about in the manner of an Arabian belly dancer. Finally, he lifted both arms, palms up, and the sand began to move, blowing out from the center of a circle and creating a crater. Marik shielded his eyes as the sand blew about them, and when he opened them, he saw something glimmering at the bottom of the crater.

"It worked!" Bakura exclaimed excitedly, sliding down the dune to the center of the crater. Marik followed and watched as Bakura picked up a golden disk from the sand. The disk supported six rotating coins around a hollow center where a glass orb encased a handful of swirling sand.

"It that the sandglass?" Marik asked, reaching to touch the strange device. Bakura swatted his hand away and lifted the sandglass up to eye level where he squinted to read an inscription.

"Huh," he said after a moment, "it seems the number of rings engraved in each coin determines the amount of time you go back: one for a minute, two for an hour, three for a day, four for a year, five for a decade, and six for a century. You pull the bottom clip out to loosen the coins, make your turns, and then retighten the clip."

"Seems like it'll take a lot of turns to go back five thousand years," said Marik.

"You can rotate the whole disk to go back a millennium," Bakura answered. "Are you ready?"

"Wait!" Marik exclaimed. "You're not going to land us in the middle of the desert, are you? We don't have enough provisions for the journey back to civilization."

"Of course not," said Bakura, "I have a place in mind. I'll just have it land us there."

"Where?" asked Marik.

"A city called Kena, if you must know."

"And where is that?"

"It's between my old hide out and the city of Thebes."

"Why not just land in Thebes?" asked Marik. "That's where the Pharaoh is, isn't it?"

"Oh yes," said Bakura, "let's just land ourselves in a highly populated city where the Pharaoh can notice us before we have time to make our move. Wouldn't that be brilliant?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," said Marik, "but the first thing we're going to do when we get to this 'Kena' is drink a gallon of water."

"A gallon of beer," Bakura corrected. "The water back then wasn't exactly clean."

Marik groaned. "I imagine the alcohol wasn't good either."

"I used to think it was the best thing ever, until I tasted the stuff you've got nowadays."

"And how did your beer compare?" Marik asked.

Bakura laughed. "It was shit," he said. "I can't _believe_ I ever liked it."


End file.
